


Callie's Tentacles

by Spacebrick



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Erogenous Zones, Gen, Hair Kink, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6989071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacebrick/pseuds/Spacebrick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having huge tentacles can be a problem when they're so sensitive. Especially when you don't want your cousin to know what you're doing with them.<br/>4 lewd drabbles about the one and only gigantic pair. Only one is reader-insert. Another features Marie (no shipping), and the other 2 are Callie focused. No actual in-depth descriptions of sex, but many, many explicit ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Callie's Tentacles

   "You're sure you're alright with this?" you asked, a hint of concern in your voice. It was not the first time you had given her that same question that night, but it would be the last.  
"Yes! You know, if I wasn't okay with it, there's no way we would have gotten this far. You'd already be knocked into next week." You both gave a chuckle, but Callie had a hint of exasperation in her voice. If she were most other people, this would be a sign that she was sick of tending to the same concern so many times in such a short sitting. But that wasn't like her. Callie was the last one who would consider someone "too caring". Knowing her, it was far more likely that the tone she gave off was a concern of her own; a concern that you, yourself, were displeased.  
"I just want you to be happy," she reassured. So then, it was by no means paranoia that you wanted so badly to make sure she was okay; the last thing you wanted was Callie putting herself out of her comfort zone in order to please you. It was you, after all, who asked if you could finish on her tentacles.  
"I know that, it's just that... I want you to be happy just as much." Callie sighed and smiled.  
"You're really a sweetheart. But, y'know, making you happy is what makes _me_ happy. That's why I need you to stop being so worried, okay?" Although she was usually loud and perky, Callie was so soft spoken when the two of you were in the bedroom. You swear she could convince you anything was true if she just tried explaining it to you in that voice.  
"Ah, that makes sense... You look out for me well." You gave a look of apology, but you quickly pulled it into a smile. That's what Callie would want.  
   "Besides..." She blushed and looked away before turning around and undoing her tentacles, letting you see them in their unconstricted beauty. Even now, even after Callie having taken you to her home and untying them in front of you for the first time so long ago, their thickness and fullness captured your attention. "Besides, I've been wanting someone to do this with me for a long time."

* * *

   One of the more interesting things about Callie was her perception towards her own tentacles. When she was a child, she had paid little mind to them, much like any innocent ignorance one would hold. But when she reached her teenage years, and they started to get longer - and longer, and longer, to the point that every morning her own grandfather went wide-eyed - she began to tie them up. Many would have assumed it was for convenience's sake, and this, of course, held some truth to it; after all, getting your tentacle stuck in something was far from any feeling that could be described as nice. Yet for the most part, the meaning was much deeper than that.  
Callie began to feel exposed whenever her tentacles had been left hanging. Tying them up became one of the most basic parts of her morning routine, though perhaps it went further than that - it was a common sense instinct, comparable to how one would never manage to leave their home in nothing but underwear. The knot they were in was nothing representative of a fashion statement. Instead, it kept the general public from seeing them in full display - naked, if you would, and she certainly did. The only one privy to what they looked like in their natural form was her own cousin, who had no idea of the real meaning behind it; and, indubitably, a future lover. And yet, even in the presence one Callie trusted with all her heart, she would only be able to undo her tentacles while her face flushed to a deep crimson.  
In short, Callie felt that having her tentacles free was its own form of nudity.  
   This practice was of dubious origin. Though not as unusual as their sheer size, Callie's tentacles held another oddity in their sensitivity. It wasn't exactly infrequent for an Inkling to have their tentacles as a sensitive spot, in the same manner as one's ears, though perhaps more delicate on the average. Even so, perhaps owing to their immensity, the extent of their tenderness reached even further than the average erogenous zone. Callie became aware of this fact during her teenage years; as her sexuality blossomed, something or someone brushing up against one of her tentacles would, at times, send a cold jolt down her spine, and as time went on, she began to realize how _good_ of a jolt it was. After discovering the joy of self-pleasure, it was only a matter of time before she used the assistance of the delicate zones which (often times literally) dangled in front of her to get the job done, or rather, make it more enjoyable. Over time, Callie's extensive use of them as a means of gratification came to make her associate them with sexuality itself; as such, consciously or not, she began to treat them like any other erotic area, and thus began to tie them up.

* * *

   There were few times where Callie let her tentacles hang free: when sleeping (although she had crashed on her bed and forgotten a few times, waking up the next morning with them sore from being weighed on), when relaxing in the comfort of her own room, obviously when gratifying herself, and when showering. Though she made fun of Marie for doing much the same thing (Marie most likely concerned with her legs or something like that), Callie was more than guilty of occasionally taking her time in the shower. The difference was that Callie could never give an answer to Marie as to why she had fumbled around for so long during that particular instance. Instead, she was more keen on furiously blushing, freezing up and giving an answer that went something like "Ah - You know..." But how could anyone blame Callie? While in the shower, the feelings of her tentacles absolutely tantalized her. It was so warm in there, after all - and her tentacles were so huge they were hard to ignore, and she was already naked, anyway - and, oh god, that incredible shiver when the showerhead started to rain - she still couldn't help but tighten her legs - that feeling of the hot, rushing water on her tentacles; they felt absolutely impossible to resist. So at some point in most of her showers, she was not, in fact, showering, and was instead sprawled out in the bathtub, her feet at one end, and her tentacles, the showerhead pointed at one, raining every single drop of their intense pleasure onto it. She had even experimented with dual experiences, one hand on the showerhead, the other rubbing herself out. Though it was pesky to fumble to get her tentacles in the right position, if she did it correctly she could last no more than a few minutes, every moment pulsing with that erotic goodness she so desperately begged for in the shower.  
When she had first started the act, it was only a short while before Marie began to have her suspicions. Callie was most certainly not the kind of girl who'd spend ages in the shower - in fact, Callie frequently took quicker showers as well. Showers which were only a third as long as her longer ones. Marie grew convinced Callie was up to something after a quick trip into the bathroom, where she had left her phone. Their conversation was extremely short, and yet incredibly telling, going something like this:  
"Hey, Callie, I just have to get my phone." Marie waited a few moments, and yet, only the sound of running water followed. Callie was normally talkative while either of them was in the shower - sometimes Callie would strike up a conversation for the long, long entirety of Marie washing herself - but even if she wasn't, the silence wasn't of someone washing themselves. It sounded like nothing at all, as if someone was trying their absolute hardest to keep still. Marie tried again. "Callie, are you alright in there?"  
"Um... Yeah. I'm fine." Callie's reply came back addled, awkward and, most of all, embarrassed. Marie stood still for a while, until Callie gave a few more words. "You can, um... You can leave now. Please." As she took her leave, yet more thoughts brewed in Marie's head.  
_What a shoddy display. I could've faked it a hundred times better than Callie ever could._ Although their shower had non-silhouette curtains - after all, Marie needed her special time too - the showerhead Marie had heard was definitely _not_ where it belonged. Callie came out of the shower a few minutes later, and immediately went to bed. It looked as if she hadn't bothered actually washing her body, but her _tentacles_ had certainly gotten a good rub.  
   Callie began to notice Marie entering the bathroom with increasing frequency. It was almost as if she was taunting her, every time dragging the conversations on a little longer each time.  
"So, what do you think about the new Squids game?"  
"It's... good."  
"Mmhmm, mmhmm. You spent all day yesterday holed up in your room with it, huh?"  
"Yes."  
"How about the new changes to the house building system?"  
"Uh." As embarrassed as she was, Callie's inability to come up with a decent response was also driven by fear. The fear of the small, and yet not insignificant, chance that Marie would open the shower curtain to find Callie splayed on the floor, nozzle in one hand, minutes from orgasm. It was as if she assigned every fiber of her body to hoping it wouldn't happen.  
One day, though, Marie was able to catch Callie off guard. Marie formulated the perfect plan to make it happen.  
"Callie, I'm going to Seashore's later. Anything you want?" If there was anything Callie had an instinctual response to, it was food. Predictably, Callie's answer began with the voice of someone halfway to climax.  
"Aaah, just g-get me a buUUrger with friiiiAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA _MARIE WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT_ " Callie thrashed about and knocked over various toiletries, causing a loud crash to sound.  
"Well, have fun with that." Casual as ever, Marie left and closed the door. An hour later, Callie finally mustered up the courage to leave the bathroom. She found Marie waiting in the living room outside, reading the novel she'd been working through. Without even looking up, she muttered to Callie, "It all goes down the drain, you know. I honestly don't care what you're up to in there, as long as you don't use any of my stuff." Callie just stood there, confused by a muddle of emotions ranging from embarrassed, to angry, to relieved. After a few moments, Marie looked at Callie. "Look, I'm sorry if I went a little far with that. If you want, I really will take you to Seashore's, alright?"  
"Hmph," a disgruntled Callie replied. And yet, she started getting ready to go to Seashore's. 

* * *

   Perhaps the worst part of the sensitivity of her tentacles was when it became less than ideal to relieve herself. At times, it made being busy torture, as her lack of time to take care of herself only let her libido build up. Over time, her tentacles would continue to grow more sensitive; touching them would result in a shock that was not only bigger, but more pleasurable than before as well, her tentacles playing harder and harder to convince Callie to let herself go, and give them the rub they desperately needed.  
   After a while, it reached a ridiculous extent: On their more packed, weeks-long tours, Callie's tentacles began to feel delight by merely rubbing up against themselves. When it did come to that, and both Callie and Marie were riding in their limousine or something akin to that, Marie would, at first, habitually gave Callie strange looks as she winced in pleasure at every bump; eventually, she grew accustomed to it. When the two of them went walking, Callie could be prone to a suspicious amount of staring off into space, distraction and grossly enough, an occasional spot of drooling as her tentacles pounded against her body.  
She, at least once every time these streaks happened, thought of letting her tentacles down, bound by morals or not; yet, she was also afraid that merely handling her tentacles like that could push her over the limit. Eventually, Callie could reach a breaking point, where no amount of self-denial could help her resist whatever dirty deed needed doing.  
In her opinion, one of the most embarrassing things she had ever done happened during the last performance of an agonizingly tour. The Squid Sisters had been performing an intense dance, and Callie grew absolutely unable to take it as she bounced and jumped around; it was a relief the crowd was so far away, or the question as to why Callie had her lips bitten the entire time would surely be put up. She tried her best to ignore whatever her body was desperately trying to tell her, but by the time she could feel the _drip, drip, drip_ through her panties and down her thighs, it was no use. In the end, she showed up 5 minutes late returning to the concert after an intermission, due to being too busy masturbating in a faculty bathroom to make it on time.  
   The ride home might have been embarrassing, but at least it was tension-free.  
"What took you so long in the bathroom back there, Callie?" Marie snickered. "Something to take care of?" Callie blushed, and, looking down, muttered.  
"You could say that..."


End file.
